


vessel

by AKL



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, everybody other than miles is pretty much just mentioned, i wanted to do something focusing on miles' feelings while he was still in mount massive, think ptsd flashback, this is short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKL/pseuds/AKL
Summary: He records, and he records, and he records, and he runs, and he cries, and he does his best not to get caught by that damn giant Walker.Mount Massive Asylum went to hell long before the riot happened.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	vessel

  
  


He can't speak. 

Hasn't been able to for awhile, not that there's anyone to waste his breath on, because if he talks he'll be heard. And what would he even say? Should he cuss?  Scream? 

Maybe he ought to pray. 

"No," he finally whispers, so low he only knows it happened because he wanted it to. There's no God to pray to here. If people were made to be like God, Miles doesn't want Him to be real. 

There's enough cussing and screaming going around as it is. 

His hands ache up to his elbows, tacky with clotted blood. What remains of his two mangled fingers is slick with bone and fluid and raw tissue. His stomach twists when he looks at them, so he doesn't. 

That bastard Trager. Cut off the two fingers most important to a man. The one reserved for a wedding ring, and the one he depends on as a right-hander. Holding the pen he uses to take notes has been near impossible. The writing is illegible and weak, like a kid first learning how, and Miles wishes with a _vehement_ heat in his gut that he could watch Trager die _all over again._

He records, and he records, and he records, and he runs, and he cries, and he does his best not to get caught by that damn giant Walker. 

Mount Massive Asylum went to hell long before the riot happened. 

Father Martin burns like a strip of bad meat. Miles won't miss him. He won't miss any of this.

His breath rattles in his chest and the dark is  _ cold.  _ The rain is a wall. When he looks out the windows, he can't even see the world anymore. Mount Massive is his world. He doesn't… think he'll live to see another.

He's still pulling glass out of his scalp, still scratching at the splinters in his skin from getting thrown around so much. There's a cut on his lip that splits every so many minutes, and the metal-sweet tang of blood on his tongue is becoming nauseating. 

The elevator would've been too clean a way for him to leave, wouldn't it? Too easy for him to loop around this whole godforsaken building and get the hell out. 

Wernicke could get his head roasted on a spit for what Miles cares. All this suffering, all the pain, is because of that old man's  _ science.  _ Some deluded Nazi fantasies that went sour after too many years underground. A sequence of numbers and letters. 

Miles kills Billy, and there was never any  _ god.  _ This is all the Walrider is. 

Putting the kid down was a mercy. 

When they tried putting Miles down - was that a mercy too? 

  
  



End file.
